Five unknowns. Young males, all—Priestess was the only female in the squad. Five kids, on their way to Hell. The Manlink master was a tall, rawboned youth called Trigger. He stared into space, clutching a dox cup in two large hands. His hair was short, a military cut. Dragon said he was fast and accurate, and that's what you need with a Manlink. The Medic was a quiet young Assidic they called Doctor Doom. He had long straight black hair that hung down over his dark slanted eyes. He didn't talk much, Dragon said, but he was there when you needed him. Good enough. That's all anyone could ask of a medic. Flash was dozing in his seat. He was the trooper who had had the hot knife confrontation with one of Valkyrie's crazies over breakfast. He looked like he should still be in school. Sweats was another school kid, short blond hair and pale blue eyes. He was watching a cartoon show on a little d-screen, laughing to himself. Wonderful. The last one was Tourist, a mop of brown hair, a heavy tan, dozing in his seat.
I wasn't sure I wanted to get to know them better, yet I was sure I would. And I knew it would hurt, all the worse, when anyone was killed.
"Pits, Mams, what's the story?" The message crackled from the cockpit. Little Miss Miss was with us, another Phantom bird hurtling through the vac, invisible and silent.
"Mams, Pits, all quiet," Redhawk responded. "Prep for autorun—coming up." Our approach transmissions were LOS/VSR—line of sight/very short range. Nobody could pick them up.
"Pits, tell DD that Scrapper yearns for his healing fingers."
"Tell her I said 'any time'," Doctor Doom replied warily. He evidently had a crush on Scrapper and had foolishly let her know about it. She liked girls better than boys but enjoyed harassing the Doc from time to time.
"Valkyrie," I interrupted.
"Yes…Thinker," she responded.
"Stay alert, all right?"
"Tell it to the O's, Thinker. Don't worry about us. Oh, and—Thinker?"
"Yes?"
"Stay alert."
I smiled. "Tenners, Mams. Pits out."
We broke away from the asteroid cloud and fell towards Augusta 6, two tiny invisible armored bats, full of microscopic life forms, inexplicably hurtling along the pathways of the Gods, speeding through infinity, cheating the vac, bound for an unseen world. It was visible on screen, but not yet out the plex.
Dragon moved up to the copilot's seat. We were surrounded by a brilliant, starry realm, a magnificent view of the Outvac and the greater universe beyond. We could see the Gassies, a glowing field of phospho dust. We were warm and comfy in the Kiss, but it was pretty scary when I thought about it, looking out to that hostile, inky vac. The Gods were totally indifferent to our fate. Whether we lived or died would make absolutely no difference to these stars, to these worlds. We could all die in a microfrac—all humanity could die, in a cosmic instant—and it would make no difference at all to the galaxy. The evidence of our presence would crumble and blow away in the wind, on all our worlds, in a few million years—and no one would ever know we had been there at all. Looking into infinity, I heard the music of the stars in my head. It was the music of the gods, the natural sounds of the universe, ice cold and spooky and terrifying, but I loved it. I still had it recorded on my tacnet, but I no longer needed any help hearing it. The stars were with me, always.
"Check out all that traffic," Dragon said. "There's plenty of O ships in orbit. Looks normal to me."
"Starcom was probably getting all excited about nothing," Redhawk said. "So they diverted some ships here—so what? Maybe they had a lot of captives they wanted to transport."
"We'll probably find out soon enough."
As we entered the system, we passed a massive gas giant, swirling in phospho blue splendor, ringed by hundreds of sparkling moonlets. And a few hours later Augusta 6 appeared—a cold silvery dot, a microscopic speck in the infinite, gaping hole in the vac that was the Outvac. An island in the vac, I thought, for any species that can take it and hold it without being exterminated by something stronger and faster.
I knew exactly what was going to happen, as I watched the planet's image on the screen. I had done this before. I didn't want to look but couldn't turn away. It grew—larger and larger—and it was deathly quiet in the ship as we watched. There was only a faint chirping and humming from our sensors. And soon Augusta 6 was a blinding, silvery sphere, reflecting sunlight, an orb of ice, seemingly rushing at us like a comet. I couldn't tear my eyes away. Now it was taking up half the sky, girt with glittering, icy clouds, and we were falling, lost and hopeless, out of control, right into it, falling to our doom. I felt like a microbe.
"Listen to all that traffic! Look at those tracks! There's a whole O fleet out there!"
My adrenalin was at max. I could hear the O transmissions, screeching on our screens. They didn't talk, of course, they were telepaths, but they used the electromagnetic spectrum as heavily as we did, for many purposes, and the Kiss was sucking it all in, recording everything for the Legion. I could see all the O ships on the screens, ringing the planet. Not one of them came after us. It was true—we were invisible! The O's had the entire system wired, and we slid right through.
"Soft drop, guys—entering the at!" We were gliding in now. The wings were starting to glow. There was no need for a hot drop, it seemed. If they couldn't detect you, you could take your time.
The ship began to shake. I closed my eyes. Could I hear the music of the stars again, or was I only imagining it? I was encased in armor, and we were falling onto the target, a world totally controlled by the O's. Strangely, I was perfectly calm. I glanced over at the armor covering my left arm. I had lasered a pix of Moontouch and Stormdawn into the cenite. They gazed at me, faintly luminous, just like a pair of angels.
"Nine," I whispered into my comset. "How you doing?"
"I've been better." Priestess was back in her seat, and evidently not in a good mood.
"Something wrong?"
"Oh, everything's just fine, Thinker. Listen, you stay close to me downside, all right?"
"As ever, Priestess. I'm not going anywhere."
"No heroics. I want to live through this one!"
"Heroics? You've got the wrong guy. I'm out to survive—and nothing else."
"Good. Let's keep it that way."
"Deal."
The craft shook and vibrated wildly; the skin was white-hot. We dropped in at a steep angle. It looked like a hot drop to me, but what did I know? Redhawk was humming to himself, seemingly completely relaxed. Well, if the pilot wasn't worried, why should I be? We dropped, white-hot and invisible, into the future.
***
"Everybody still alive? Stand by. We're approaching the zero." That was Psycho's idea of humor—but the news that someone—or something—replied to our rescue burst had set my adrenalin off, and it was still going. I lay on my armored back in the charred remnants of what had been a great, ancient forest of very tall trees. Now it was a horrific wasteland of awful charcoal titans, burnt black, withered branches scratching at the sky in silent protest. The whole forest had been incinerated. There had been quite a fight here, before the O's took the place.
It was raining, a slow, miserable drizzle that showed no signs of letting up. The sky was dark with ugly clouds, and angry bursts of thunder rumbled overhead, a terrible din, rattling my armor. The dead forest rose from rocky ground, and harsh metallic stones jutted out of the muddy earth all around me. I lay there, E at the ready, camfax cloth wrapped around me like a shroud, the rain pattering on my faceplate, all readouts clear, the tacmap showing the whole squad all around me. We were well dispersed. I was uneasy about that. We were supposedly invisible in the Kiss, so why not stay in the craft until we ID'd the target? But no—Legion doctrine was to starburst from the aircar, to avoid losing the whole squad in the event of a hit on the car. Well, we didn't have aircars any more, but now the starburst was done and each of us was presumably visible to whoever had the technology to spot us.
We had already been downside almost an hour and nothing had come after us.
The response to our hello had come from a site labelled on our tacmaps as a middle school. It was uncomfortably close to Augusta Starport, too close to suit me. The port was crawling with activity. I felt our time was running out fast. I kept looking up into the sky, watching the rain fall. Whatever was going to come after us would strike from the sky.
"Stay alert, Sweety," I cautioned my Persist.
"All quiet, Three. Analysis of the covert Nova's encryption concludes the message is genuine." Her calm voice always soothed me. The four previous Novas had been completely overt—as if they were afraid of nothing. Now they do a covert one. Anything to delay us. I felt every instant counted. And here we were, dispersed, scattered all over the damned place.
"It's crap, Thinker," Valkyrie whispered in my ears on private. "They're sucking us in." She was sharing her doubts with me, then barking out quick, confident orders to her squad. They were several K away. Another roll of thunder sounded overhead. It was still raining.
"Maybe, maybe not," I replied. "We try. We have no choice."
"All right, Pits, move out," Dragon said calmly. "We're doing the recovery. Recon formation, on me. Mams, stand by to screen us. Kiss, Miss, I don't want anything coming at us. See the screen, gang." I was up and moving through that monstrous chargrilled forest, nervously scanning the rainy sky, the images flickering on my faceplate. I could read the Nova now. It was in the school, a series of low, partially destroyed buildings, an aircar lot, a solar unit, a sports field—the designation rippled over the image: Cold Run Midschool.
"You get that Manlink warmed up, Trigger," Psycho ordered quietly.
"She's cookin', Psycho." I could tell the rest of the squad wasn't feeling any better about the op than I was. I could see them on my tacmap all around me, filtering through the forest, moving eerily from tree to tree, all but invisible. But the 'all but' part, I knew, could get us killed. The school was only a few K away now. I couldn't believe a Legion trooper would set off a rescue Nova in a public building, on a world totally controlled by the O's. It was crazy!
"O ship launching from the port," Little Miss Miss reported. I could hear it, a deep thunder, a phospho dot rising on my tacmap. It was raining harder now. I couldn't see much around me except black, blistered trees.
"Intruder! Omni aircar! Mams, Kiss—it's approaching your position. Permission to fire!"
"Miss, acquiring target."
"Negative, Kiss, Miss," Dragon ordered. "Don't fire unless it moves to attack—prep to fire! Pits, Mams, freeze!"
"O on scope—locked on. If he sneezes, he's dead." Redhawk was maxed out, I could tell, ready to blast the Omni aircar to atoms. I had dropped into the mud, wrapping my camfax cloak around me, clutching my E. I watched the aircar on the tacmap, gliding towards Mams' position as straight as an arrow—then serenely floating over them and on to the port, oblivious to the alien intruders hidden in the forest below. Over the port, the Omni starship was still rising.
"All right, that's it. Pits, let's go. Mams, work out that perimeter."
"Tenners." I got up, my cloak soaked in muddy ash. It was raining hard. Lightning flashed overhead, lighting up the grim scene briefly. The thunder sounded like artillery. I moved, forward, my mind raging.
"Thinker—" Priestess was on private to me. "What do you think?"
"Stay alert, Priestess. Stay alert!"
"This is crazy!"
"That's a ten!"
***
"That's an O," Dragon said. I raised my E and the scope brought it right to me but the image was blurred and misty behind all that rain, blocked from time to time by the dead trees around me. I could barely make it out—a tall, hulking yet spidery creature, moving leisurely—walking? My finger caressed the trigger.
"There's two of them," Psycho added. "Not shielded—no armor. Scut, they're not even armed! Let's blast 'em!" Our psybloc units throbbed on our helmets. Psycho had a point. Psybloc was critical, but it had given away Legion units more than once. Every instant that passed increased the danger that we'd be spotted. We were still dispersed but nearing the tree line.
"Negative, no movement, stand by, Phantoms," Dragon countered. I strained to make out the other Omni—there he was! Two of them. They were almost staggering along in the distance, now side by side, two great tall Omnis. I knew the creatures better than I cared to. They had killed over two billion humans, and they had almost killed me as well. They were extremely dangerous, and regarded us as annoying vermin. I felt nothing but fear and hatred for them.
"Looks like they're headed for the port."
"Fine, let them go. Don't interfere." They were headed away from the school, to my great relief.
"All right, Pits—on me." Dragon was off again. I moved cautiously from tree to tree. We were nearing the school, and my adrenalin level was edging upwards. The rain eased slightly but I was still wet and miserable.
***
"Dragon, on me," I whispered. I was pretty shook up. I had the thing centered in my sights, but it was clearly not a threat. The trouble was, it was so terrifying that I was starting to shake.
It lay flat on swampy ground, and it was shaped like a human, but had no features. It was a pulpy, human- shaped mass, a wet, yellowish-grey growth, almost like a decaying human vegetable, utterly rotten, sopping in the rain. It almost looked like some primitive's attempt to manufacture a human out of mud and clay. If there had ever been a human in there, it was now clearly dead, but so featureless I could not tell if it was lying on its belly or its back. Its arms were flung out to the sides. I had never seen anything like this before.
"What the hell is that?" Dragon covered it with his E.
"I don't know." I was glad Dragon was there. Let him take care of it.
"DD, get over here," Dragon ordered.
"It's human," Doctor Doom said, squatting by the corpse, reading his medprobe. "A human corpse, covered by…some kind of fungoid growth. Medprobe says it's a fungus, unidentified variety, unknown origin. It appears to have spread over the entire body." DD stood up, ignoring the corpse, still focusing on the medprobe. "That's funny. The probe says the corpse is only a few hours old. I don't see how that could be."
"All right, let's get outta here. Take a sample, Doc. Pits, resume advance."
We splashed forward, nearing the edge of the fossil forest, glad to leave the horrid corpse behind. The school was right up ahead, in an open field. A range of mountains dominated the horizon.
"Movement! I've got…"
"Human, unarmored, unarmed, zeroed." Sweety highlighted the image. I knelt by a scorched tree and brought my E up. The scope showed what looked like a female, falling abruptly to her knees in a dark grassy field between our tree line and the school. I did not like the look of it.
"No life in the school. No other life in the vicinity. Sky is clear."
"Thank you, Sweety." No life in the school—deto! That was where the Nova had come from. Yes, it was a young female, moving her arms, rocking back and forth on her knees.
"Psycho, on me," Dragon ordered. "We investigate. Cover me. Pits, cover us."
"Tenners."
We broke out of the cover of the dead forest and approached her, striding through scorched grass. It was still raining lightly. My skin crawled. We were totally exposed out in the field. I kept her covered with my E as Dragon advanced on her. She was a slim young midschooler with shoulder-length brown hair, clad in a thin sleeveless pullover, shorts, and liteshoes. She did not even appear to be aware of us. She was examining her arms. Then she snapped her head up, spotted us, and froze.
"We're the Legion," Dragon said. "Don't be afraid. You'll be all right now. Are there any other humans in the vicinity?" She stared at him like a bird facing a snake. Then she suddenly began to tremble, raising her shaking arms convulsively. Her face and arms were covered with scratches. Her mouth opened and emitted an agonized whimper. She began scratching frantically at her forearms, moaning wordlessly. Then she presented them for us to see. Her twitching arms were covered wit
h scratches and welts.
"What's the matter?" Dragon asked, lowering his E. "What's wrong with you?" She burst into tears, balled her hands into fists, and screamed, an unearthly shriek of horror. She resumed scratching desperately at her arms, drawing blood, ripping long deep scars in her flesh with broken fingernails.
"Stop it," Dragon said, seizing her by one arm. "What's wrong? We can help you—DD, on me!" She screamed, fighting to escape Dragon's grasp, tearing at her face, thrashing around in the grass. Doctor Doom came running and I helped Dragon hold the girl down as Doom examined her. She screamed, hysterical, struggling frantically to escape.
DD gave her a sedative and she slowly calmed down but still rolled her head around, moaning in agony.
"What's wrong with her, Doc?"
"Look at this, Dragon," DD said, examining one of the girl's arms. I bent closer to see it. The arm was covered with little greenish-white spots. As we watched, more of them began to appear. The girl shrieked again. She was in agony.
"Deadman! What is that crud?" I gasped. Priestess appeared, shouldering me aside, ripping open her medkit.
"Fungus!" DD exclaimed, reading his medprobe. "It's the same thing! She's in shock."
"Zeomax and cyro," Priestess suggested. "Anti-infection and anti-shock. No choice!"
"Yes," Doom replied. "Do it!" Priestess zapped the girl with a fast field injection. It resulted in another horrifying scream. The girl's body arched up and began trembling violently.
"My God—look. Look!" DD had ahold of her arm. The fungus spread even as we watched, crawling over her twitching body with astonishing speed, the white spots joining, reaching out for each other, merging, thickening, advancing—over her flesh. We held her tightly—her screams were freezing my heart.
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